Hungry
by IReadAndWriteSometimes
Summary: Lucien takes a nap after a long workday and wakes up hungry.


Hello! Here's a little random, fluffy something I wrote ages ago but only got talked into posting today.

Like with all my writing, I had the support of my perfect beta _escapewithstories_ , so I'd like to thank her real quickly before letting you get to the story. She's amazing, so if you're looking for another read, make sure to check out her stories as well.

In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this one. :)

* * *

 **HUNGRY**

She hears Matthew's shuffling long before he steps into the living room. On a smile she looks up from her knitting just in time to see him pause at the door.

"You're finally back, too," she tells him softly, her hand landing on Lucien's sleeping head resting in her lap.

Matthew rolls his eyes. "Unlike some," he starts as he moves to sit into the chair next to the sofa on a tired sigh, "I had a stack of paperwork to finish before I was allowed to leave." He punctuates his words by rather forcefully wedging his cane between the armrest and the cushioned seat, but Jean knows it is more for show than genuine aggravation.

She looks down at her lap and smooths out the few stray strands of Lucien's usually tidy hair. "He didn't cause any extra I hope?" she asks on a smile even as she genuinely worries that he had.

Matthew shrugs. "No more than usual." He joins Jean when she laughs quietly, then nods his head at his colleague's sleeping form. "How long's he been out?"

She gives Lucien a sympathetic look, then trails a hand down his shoulder and the side of his arm. "Barely made it out of his shoes and jacket before falling asleep." She chuckles quietly to herself. "He may have been out before he even properly hit the couch."

As if on cue, Matthew yawns. "I can understand why," he says, relaxing into his seat and letting his head fall over its backrest.

Jean extends her earlier commiserating look to Matthew and smiles gently. "There's dinner in the oven if you're hungry."

He lifts his head on a groan. "I might be too tired to eat."

She nods, her eyes falling on her sleeping husband again. "Lucien was, too." But she is sure he will be as hungry as a wolf the moment he wakes up.

Matthew sighs. "But thank you."

She smiles, brushing it off. "I should probably get him to bed," she says, her focus returning to Lucien. As if hearing her, he moves, but not to open his eyes as expected, but merely to bury his face deeper into her thigh and even snaking his arm underneath her leg and hooking it around her knee, making himself more comfortable.

Matthew smirks. "Probably. Or he'll have a stiff neck tomorrow. And while that might be fun in some regard," his smirk turns mischievous, "I'd rather not listen to him complain about it all day."

Jean laughs, shaking Lucien slightly, but he doesn't seem to wake. "Oh, he'll find one way or another to drive us both mad tomorrow anyway."

"Oh, don't I know it," Matthew drawls.

Jean merely continues to giggle quietly.

"Anyway," Matthew says with a note of finality, reaching for his cane, "he does have the right idea about sleeping." He gets to his feet tiredly. "Sleep sounds heavenly at the moment." Not waiting for Jean's response, he heads for the doorway, mumbling more to himself than her, "As does a shower."

She chuckles. "Good night, Matthew."

He merely waves the back of his hand at her as he disappears from view.

A soft smile on her face, Jean momentarily considers waking Lucien and ushering him to bed, but decides a few more minutes won't hurt anyone. She's just about to pick up her discarded knitting again, when Lucien's arm, the one wrapped around her upper leg, twitches. She stretches her arms out just enough to look down at him in surprise, but his eyes are still closed, so she returns to her knitting.

She's barely done wrapping the string around her finger when she hears him groan sleepily. He mumbles something into her thigh, but she fails to make out what.

"What was that?" she asks, putting down her knitting for good now and carefully placing everything on the armrest to her right.

He moves his head. "Drive you crazy," he mumbles, his eyes remaining closed.

She laughs in surprise. "How long have you been awake?"

In answer, he tightens his arm around her leg and buries his face in her thigh again.

"That long?" It isn't really a question despite the quizzical lift of her eyebrow as she continues to look at him.

He nods, then moves only enough for her to be able to make out his words. "Stiff neck." He scoffs dismissively, then rubs his cheek against her thigh, adding a mumbled, "Comfortable."

She finds his sleepy mumbling incredibly endearing. It prompts her to thread her fingers through his hair, and she smiles at the content sigh it elicits from him. "For you maybe," she says ever so slightly admonishingly, "but my entire leg has gone numb."

He moves his other arm, reaching for her calf. Squeezing it gently, he shakes his head and mutters, "Massage."

She laughs, then corrects him. "Bed."

His response is a grunt and another squeeze to her calf.

"Come on," she taps her fingers lightly against his scalp, "or I'll go without you." When she merely pretends to get up, he tightens his grip around her in protest.

He presses his lips into her clothed thigh. "I'm starving."

She barks out a hearty laugh, shaking him again in the process.

The reaction has him lift his head, and for the first time since he's woken, she sees his eyes, sleepy, but alert. "What?" he asks, bemused.

"Nothing," she says quickly, waving him off with a flick of her hand.

He humphs, not believing her, but lets it go, turning only enough to drop his chin on her thigh.

When she moves her fingers against his scalp again and his eyes slip closed, she shakes her head indulgently. "I've made dinner."

He takes a deep, tired breath. "I know." His eyes remain shut.

He stays quiet for a few moments and his head grows heavy in her lap. "Lucien?" she prompts gently.

"Mhm?"

"Dinner or bed?"

He hums sleepily once more. "You."

She chuckles silently in amusement. Releasing his hair, her hand finds his face and she traces the relaxed lines of his forehead. "Bed it is then," she decides.

He hums affirmatively, but instead of heeding her silent command, he just shuffles higher up and further into her lap. He lets go of her leg, but only to turn and wrap his arms around her waist instead, hiding his face in her blouse. Inhaling deeply, he then relaxes again.

His clinginess puts a rather sad smile on Jean's face. He isn't like this usually. At least not to this degree. And she knows why. The case that had kept both him and Matthew running nonstop for nearly 24 hours had been a particularly gruesome one. A family that had only just formed and found happiness, extinguished by the despicable likes of a random burglar. She had known the wife and husband personally, their pasts difficult enough to feel unnervingly familiar to both her and Lucien. It wasn't hard to put herself in either one of their shoes, be it happier or sadder times, so their meeting this untimely end made her heart constrict painfully. No doubt similar thoughts had crossed Lucien's mind, driven him all the more to bring their murderer to justice. Exhaustion only took away his usual resolve not to linger on his fears, and whether he is aware of it or not, Jean doesn't mind indulging him. In fact, she finds these rare moments of utter peace, even if preceded by darkness, to be precious. She knows Lucien does, too. Only tonight, perhaps a little more so than usual.

One of her hands slips back into his hair, as her other finds his shoulder. She bends down and presses a kiss just above his ear. "I love you," she says, without really thinking about it.

She feels his smile against her abdomen, and the momentary squeeze she feels around her middle lets her know he more than returns the sentiment.

He grows heavier again, and although she enjoys the added warmth he provides, she is far from being comfortable like this. Still, she lacks the will to wake him and force him to bed. She herself isn't nearly as sleepy, and certainly not as tired as he is, so she considers picking up her knitting again.

The thought barely crosses her mind, when Lucien stirs. She feels him pressing a kiss blindly somewhere just above her belly button, before his hold around her slackens and he slowly pulls his arms back. After quite a bit of shuffling and tired groaning, he is upright and awake enough to be watching her with an expression Jean isn't sure what to make of.

This time it is her turn to pose a confused, "What?"

He just shrugs, then quickly pecks her cheek. "Thank you."

She smiles modestly, tilting her head to the side as she regards him. She doesn't ask what for, for he will either have a long list of reasons why at the ready, or won't quite know how to name even a single one. Instead, she feigns exasperation. "Are you finally ready to properly turn in?"

He sighs miserably, giving her a conflicted kind of look. "I _am_ hungry," he tells her, completely dejectedly.

"Oh," she lets out on a laugh, then pats and kisses his cheek lovingly, "I know."

Her amused tone does not impress Lucien, but he still smiles guiltily.

She abruptly stands, holding her hand out for him. "Let's get you fed then."

He takes her hand, but instead of pushing himself up, he pulls her down. She's thrown off balance, and on a little yelp, she lands in his lap. "Lucien!" The exclamation sounds scandalized.

"Jean!" he says, mocking her tone, then grins before catching her lips between his.

As incredulous as she is, she doesn't even try to fight him. Almost automatically, she clutches his face, and on a content hum, melts into the kiss.

Lucien's hands land on her hip and he scoots her further and more securely into his lap. The movement forces Jean to move a hand to his shoulder, then the back of his neck in search of purchase, but this isn't an inconvenience for her. In fact, she moans appreciatively against his mouth.

Lucien halts their kiss for a moment, just to grin dopely at her, but suddenly she is impatient, and quickly seals his mouth with another. Her eager tongue demands entrance, and Lucien is more than happy to oblige, his lips briefly twitching into a smug smile as they part. His hands start a path of exploration. He runs one down her slack covered knees and shins, while wiggling the fingers of his other to untuck her blouse at her hip in search of the smooth skin hidden beneath.

His hand must be a bit cold, because she hisses and slightly startles when he makes contact. She even pauses her assault on his lips and tongue, but he gives her less than a second to recover before seeking her out again.

He pushes his hand insistently against her shins, and needing no further askance, she moves to sit astride him, a leg tucked in against either side of his thighs. She clasps his face now again, deepening their kiss, but Lucien bucks his hips into her, eliciting a small gasp from her that breaks her concentration. As she lifts her head, she exposes her neck and grinning, for that is precisely what he had hoped for, Lucien nips at that one spot he knows will make her whimper.

When she does, it is followed by a breathy, "Lucien."

"Yes, my love?" he says in response, before moving his lips further down to her collarbone.

"You said," she is panting slightly, clearly distracted, "you were hungry."

He laughs, the deep rumble reverberating through her chest and only speeding up her already increased heart rate. "And you're delicious."

The fingers she had tangled in his hair disappear and she smacks them lightly against his head. "You ridiculous man." The chiding tone is belied by her amused smile.

" _Your_ ridiculous man," he corrects smugly, looking up at her with a toothy grin.

She pulls back a little, a narrow-eyed look on her face, and palms his cheeks. She sees his excitement over whatever she will do next in the way his grin actually widens and his hands slip further up under her blouse. She leans into his touch for a moment, basking in the feel of it now that his hands are warmer, before purposefully tracing her thumb over his lower lip. She smiles coyly when he takes in a sharp, excited breath and drops his gaze to her hand. She closes the distance between them, trapping the flesh teasingly between her teeth and releasing it at a torturously slow pace.

He blindly moves to follow once she frees his lip, and he can just about feel her hot breath on his, when she suddenly moves away and abruptly gets off his lap.

He gives her an affronted look, too stunned to voice his disgruntlement.

She wants to laugh at his disheveled, aroused appearance, but keeps a purposefully straight face. "Food or me," she says matter-of-factly, then without another word, turns on her heel and stalks toward the hallway.

She grins victoriously when he doesn't hesitate for even a moment, but quickly fixing, or at least trying to fix his hair, practically jumps to his feet to follow. Unfortunately, she is quickly stopped dead in her tracks when her eyes fall onto the kitchen, making her overeager husband bump blindly into her back.

"Turns out I can't fall asleep on an empty stomach," Matthew says, turning around after having closed the oven door, a plate of Jean's aforementioned dinner in his hand.

Embarrassed, she stutters something incoherent, self-consciously smoothing out her untucked blouse. There is an amused smirk on Matthew's face, he knows what they have been up to, and while she is certain he must have been in the kitchen long enough to have heard _something_ , too, she sends out a silent prayer that he hadn't _seen_ anything. She curses the fact that there is no door or that at least the curtain dividing the two areas hadn't been drawn.

She startles at the feel of Lucien's hands at the side of her arms, but relaxes when he seems to have a much better grip on the situation than she. "That looks delicious," he says, then leaning his head forward, adds for her ear only, " _too_."

She looks sharply at him, and if Lucien hadn't been quick enough to straighten they might have quite literally butted heads. Matthew though, prevents any further warning she might have wanted to send Lucien's way by saying, "Jean's made enough to feed a village if you care to join me."

Jean chokes back a laugh at Lucien's genuinely conflicted expression. He opens his mouth, his eyes darting between Matthew and his wife, a lame, "Uuh," coming out.

She turns to face him, a smirk on her face. "You help yourself to dinner." She pats him patronizingly across the abdomen. "Good night again, Matthew," she adds, returning her eyes only briefly to the man in question, before lifting to her toes to peck Lucien's cheek. She whispers to him, "I'll wait up," but as she proceeds down the hallway adds a "Maybe," just for his benefit. She presses a hand against her mouth to stifle yet another laugh, when she hears his low, tortured groan before finally telling Matthew he did care to join him.

By the time Lucien finds his way to their bedroom, Jean has changed into her nightgown and is tucked into bed, leaning against the headboard, a book in her lap. She greets her husband with a smile as she looks up after marking the page she was on, but he just silently reaches for her cover at the bottom of the bed and in one swift motion yanks it off of her. Before she can so much as gasp in surprise, he's headed for the bathroom, haphazardly balling the sheet up, saying, "I'll join you in a minute."

She watches the spot from which he disappeared on an incredulous shake of her head, but admits to herself that she should have expected some kind of retribution for her earlier stunt. She opens her book again then, and spends the minute that turns into fifteen finishing up the chapter he interrupted.

When he returns, now ready for bed and his hair deliciously damp after his shower, he is wearing a self-satisfied smirk and clutching the stolen cover against his chest. "Looking for this?" he asks innocently, his eyes on the cover as he rounds the bed to reach his side.

"Not really," she answers nonchalantly as she places her book on the nightstand.

"Ah-ha," he mumbles sarcastically, finally relinquishing his selfish hold on the cover and spreading it out across the bed. "I like it, by the way," he adds randomly, slipping into bed, "smells like you."

She smiles, then takes a pillow from behind her back, taking a whiff of it. "Yes," she nods, "and this smells just like you."

His eyes widen only momentarily before he grins. "Ah, so that's the game we're playing."

"What game?" she asks, feigning cluelessness. "I merely needed the extra support," she explains, smoothing out the wrinkles in the pillow case.

He chuckles, then extends a hand to her. "Truce?"

She eyes his hand distrustingly, with a raised eyebrow and her lips pursed. "I don't think so." As if to prove her point, she reaches for the cover and pulls it up across herself _and_ his pillow.

It doesn't discourage Lucien in the least. He smiles wolfishly, and there is a briefest of moments in which Jean sees an idea flash in his eyes, before he shuffles towards her. "Well, then," he announces, then lies down, settling his head in her lap on the pillow she hid underneath the covers.

She laughs when he pulls his side of the cover over him, then sprawls a hand comfortably across her and nuzzles into his concealed pillow.

"This is much better anyway," he informs her, closing his eyes.

"Lucien!" she admonishes on a laugh.

He only hums in response, relaxing further.

She leans down, stroking his wet hair, and whispers teasingly against his ear, "Lost your appetite?"

He just grows heavier in her lap, not responding at all.

"Lucien?" she whispers again, this time, however, an edge to her tone as she also pulls back to look at him with a slight frown on her face. The frown quickly disappears though when she realizes that he wasn't trying to get a rise out of her. He had simply, and genuinely, fallen asleep again.

She sighs, a little hum escaping her as well. Affectionately, she brushes her hand against his beard, unable to be upset even a little bit when she knows how exhausted he truly was even after his little nap earlier. Careful not to wake him, although she doubts anything would just now, she pushes him, along with his pillow, off her lap.

He doesn't even stir, merely snuggles into his pillow once it's his only support.

She scoots down the bed to lie down properly and turns to her side, facing him. He starts snoring quietly, another sign of the extent of his exhaustion, but she doesn't mind. She merely scoots closer to him, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead before tucking her face into the side of his pillow.

'You'll be hungry again in the morning,' she thinks to herself as she closes her eyes and lets sleep take her as well.

 **THE END**

* * *

If you have a moment, I'd love to hear if you liked this or not. :)


End file.
